On the Other Hand
by Meowser Clancy
Summary: An ongoing story featuring Rick Payne and Melinda Gordon, taking them through their tumultuous life as a couple. AU, obviously. Some chapters will be in drabble form.
1. Chapter 1

On the Other Hand by Meowser Hotchner

A story featuring Rick Payne and Melinda Gordon, taking them through their tumultuous life as a couple. AU, obviously. Some chapters will be in drabble form.

* * *

Melinda was angry.

She didn't get angry often, as her boyfriend liked to fondly note, but when she did, she was obvious about it. Pans banged and dishes clattered. Doors slammed and the unlucky customers that visited Same As It Never Was weren't to be sure of a welcome reception.

Yes, Melinda didn't get angry often but when she did, it was only at one person; always the same person. Rick Payne, jerk extraordinaire, and, she reflected angrily, the man she loved most in the world.

Another unlucky customer wandered into the store, asked about baby clothes and Melinda calmed somewhat, her hand going to her own pregnant stomach as she stepped out from behind the counter.

"I have a small selection over here," she said, guiding the woman to the corner by the window. "I don't get much but when I do, it usually goes fast."

"Have you ever claimed any for yourself?" The woman asked in amusement, glancing at Melinda's protruding stomach.

"Not like that," Melinda laughed. "This will be my first, and possibly my last, if my deadbeat boyfriend doesn't pop the question soon."

The woman looked startled before bursting out in laughter. "Sometimes I feel like I'm still living in the past," she said in amusement. "Good luck with that, my dear. In my day, there wasn't a baby before the wedding but sometimes that might be a good thing. Why stay with him?" She asked, fingering through the clothes.

"Because I love him," Melinda said in frustration. "And some days he loves me back. And some days...it's like there's no one in his world but him."

The woman looked at her quizzically.

"He's an absentminded professor," Melinda said. "Of the first degree."

"Oh!" The woman laughed. "Oh, now I understand. Let me guess, he doesn't even remember doing the deed to get you this way."

Melinda sighed. "He remembers it," she said. "Sometimes I think that's the only reason he keeps me around."

"I'm Faith Clancy," the woman said suddenly. "You must be the owner or you wouldn't talk so freely to a paying customer."

"I am the owner," Melinda agreed. "Melinda Gordon."

"I knew that," Faith said happily. "I'm in town to see my son, Jim. He talks about you sometimes."

"Oh, of course," Melinda said. "You're Jim's mother. How lovely. Wait...is Andrea expecting?"

Faith bit her lip. "Of course, you didn't hear it from me, but it seems very possible. He's being very tight lipped about it, though."

"Understandable," Melinda said. "I waited for a while to announce mine. It's just safer."

Faith had a quizzical look in her eye and then she nodded. "Yes. There are always risks." She smiled down at Melinda's bump. "Do you know what you're having?"

"A boy," Melinda said firmly. "But that hasn't been confirmed by ultrasound. I just have this conviction and don't want to doubt myself by checking, you know?"

Faith looked puzzled. "I don't understand the reasoning, I admit," she said. "But it's a sweet idea to wait. I had just boys, myself. Daniel and James."

"Jim has a brother?" Melinda said.

"Had," Faith said gently. "I lost Dan soon after I lost their father."

"Oh, I am so sorry," Melinda said.

"I am too," Faith said. "But less talk about that. How do you know Jim?"

"Andrea is one of my best friends," Melinda said. "Enough that I would have been her maid of honor if I'd known her before the wedding."

"Oh, really?" Faith said. "But Andrea didn't end up having a maid of honor. I wish you had known her before."

"It was a small wedding, right?" Melinda asked.

"Microscopic," Faith sighed. "I wanted a big wedding. I pushed for one. But Andrea doesn't have much family left, as you know, and her brother couldn't make it back in time and they just didn't want the bother, I suppose. Jim says it was he who pushed for it but I think it was Andrea's disappointment that her brother wouldn't fly back in time."

Faith looked a bit guilty. "I'm not intending this as gossip," she said. "I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't think this was information you wouldn't already have."

Melinda nodded. "I've picked up bits and pieces," she said. "Andrea wanted the big wedding but it...wouldn't have made her happy the way it was."

"And they downsized," Faith said. "These clothes are adorable but I suppose it isn't official and I shouldn't be putting my foot in it." She shrugged. "I'll be back, Melinda Gordon. And when I do, I hope you have better news for me regarding your boyfriend."

She waved her hand by folding it over itself in quick motions before leaving rather quickly, with the manner of someone who's said too much.

Melinda watched her go, still distracted by the woman's news, before thinking over what she'd said as she left. _I hope you have better news._

Melinda sighed and walked to the counter, picking up her purse. "Delia!" She called to the back. "I want to go and try to see Rick before his lunch break is over. Can you take over here for a while?"

"Sure," Delia said, poking her head out of the back. "You seem to be in a better mood," she said cautiously.

"Aw, I'm sorry for letting my pregnant mama hormones and my anger at Rick leak out on you," Melinda said. "Forgive me?"

"Of course," Delia said. "I'm just glad that you won't..."

"Bite your head off when you ask me to price an item?" Melinda said. "I won't, promise."

"Then I will be glad to watch the shop," Delia said.

"Do you want me to grab something for you?" Melinda said. "Something healthy? Something awful?"

"I brought lunch," Delia said. "Go ahead."

Melinda nodded and left the shop, going to her red jeep as quickly as possible. At twenty weeks, Melinda had only just started to show her pregnancy. At twenty weeks, the morning sickness was mostly over and she was getting into what her mother affectionately called 'the long haul'. At least, Melinda thought it was affection in her mother's voice.

Beth Gordon had not been happy at all to learn of Melinda's pregnancy. It was in the past week that Melinda had gotten over her hurt pride to go and see her mother to try and reconcile.

 _"This is what happened," Melinda finally said, staring at her silent mother. "Maybe it's not what I or you or Rick expected and maybe it's not the best outcome but that's life. I'm keeping the baby."_

 _"Well, of course you're keeping it!" Beth snapped, throwing her hands in the air. "I'd never ask you to get an abortion and you're twenty-five for God's sake. You're old enough. But damn it, Melinda, I thought you were old enough to know better. Being a single parent is not an easy life and it was the last thing I wanted for you."_

 _"I'm not going to be a single parent, mom," Melinda protested. "What about Rick? He's going to be fully present in his child's life."_

 _Beth stared at her hard. "Can you honestly say that Rick Payne is fully present in anyone's life? Including his own? Including yours?"_

 _"Mom, just stop!" Melinda said, giving up. "This is what's happening. I want you to be present in my baby's life. Will you? Because your attitude from this moment forward is going to be what determines that."_

 _Beth blinked. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry, Melinda."_

 _"So am I," Melinda said. "Can you be happy for me?"_

 _"I'll get back to you on that," Beth said with tight lips. "Maybe I could take you to a doctor's appointment."_

 _"Okay," Melinda agreed._

Melinda went over the conversation in her mind as she drove over to Rockland U. Yes, it wasn't quite the conversation she'd hoped for but she'd given up on having a true heart to heart with her mother. Beth Gordon gave what she could and Melinda had long ago accepted that.

It just still stung sometimes. That was all.

She got from the car quickly; as quickly as she could. Rick had about ten minutes left in his lunch break and that was just enough time for a quick, reconciling conversation with him.

She was already looking forward to seeing him, as angry as she still was at the man. But, after all, maybe it hadn't been fully his fault last night. He was busy lately, what with the start of a new semester and the ongoing fight to get tenure and keep it.

She wondered if moving in together would help. She'd wondered that a lot lately but Melinda just didn't want to move in with someone without the promise of marriage. It seemed too much like giving up on him ever proposing. And that was what Melinda wanted, a promise of forever from Rick Payne. An outward sign that he actually loved her and that she wasn't just imagining it.

She remembered how his eyes looked whenever he saw her naked; how smoky they got and how low his voice became when they made love. She remembered how he touched her, how he always knew where to touch to make her go completely crazy. She remembered how they'd met; she remembered everything about him and she was buzzing, excited for the moment when she'd see him and he'd open his arms for her to step into them.

She hurried to his office and was surprised to see his exwife outside. "Kate. What are you doing here? This isn't okay anymore. Right now, you're the only thing stopping yourself from crossing over and you know it."

"You're making a mistake," Kate said coolly. "Rick will never truly love anyone. He'll never see beyond the end of his nose. I was like you are now, Melinda. I was pregnant."

"With someone else's child," Melinda returned. "Just go, Kate."

The ghost shrugged and walked off before turning around at the end of the corridor. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Melinda Gordon."

Melinda huffed at the ghost, turned and twisted the doorknob to Rick's office.

"Rick? I just wanted—" She broke off in horror, because there, sitting on Rick's desk, was a very pretty, very young woman, with a skirt slit all the way up her long thigh and a plunging top.

And Rick was right there, sitting at his desk and talking with the woman as if it was okay, as if it was normal behavior and not...

"Melinda!" Rick jumped to his feet and the woman jumped off of his desk. "Melinda. Amanda, this is my girlfriend, Melinda. Melinda, this is Amanda. She's a student. We were just talking about psycho—"

"Can I talk to you?" Melinda interrupted, ignoring the hand Amanda offered.

"Can you come back later?" Rick asked Amanda and the woman flew from the office. "What's this about, Melinda?"

"What was she doing on your desk?" Melinda asked. "What the hell, Rick? I never thought you were the type to cheat and I definitely didn't think you'd have an affair with a student!"

"Don't be foolish, Melinda," Rick said. "She was asking question. Was she coming onto me?" He raked a hand through his hair. "Probably. She's getting pretty low grades right now and all teachers have to combat this sooner or later. Would I ever in a million years have said yes to what she was suggesting?" He narrowed his eyes at Melinda. "No, I wouldn't have and I can't believe you'd think that of me, Melinda."

"You weren't stopping her," Melinda protested.

"She hadn't said anything or done anything yet," Rick said. "I was giving her a chance. Something like that calls for immediate expulsion according to Rockland's bylaws. I didn't want her to do something she'd regret with another teacher."

Melinda just stared at him. "Rick, this is...this is just too much. Last night and now...I can't believe I ever thought this would work."

She turned to leave and Rick caught her arm at the last minute.

"Don't give up on me," he said. "Not yet."

"You're in your own world," Melinda said. "All alone."

"Not when I'm with you," Rick pleaded, stepped forward and pressed his lips to hers. As always, it was like electricity hitting her. Melinda gasped and found herself responding as she usually did, with complete abandon.

She was in love with this man. And nothing could change that.


	2. Chapter 2

Melinda pulled back from Rick, stopping the kiss as soon as she could untangle herself from his reaching arms.

"No, Rick," she gasped and he pulled back just enough to rest his head on her hers.

"You turn me _on,_ Melinda Gordon," he whispered, his eyes dark. "Do you know what you do to me?"

"I think it's similar to what you do to me," she returned, but then remembered just what scene she'd interrupted on his desk and, placing both hands on his chest, shoved him back from her.

"This is the second time," she seethed. "Last night I came home after a very long day. I asked for one simple thing: take the trash out so I didn't have to run out to the curb in the morning before I missed him. And what do I get? A morning wake up at 5 a.m., a jog outside to the curb and he was already gone. And then there was last week when you forgot to call and I was...three...hours for you in a mall. What the hell do I have to do to get your attention at the right times, Rick? And no, taking off my shirt is not an answer."

Rick blinked at her. "I'm sorry. I've already apologized for this, Melinda. I don't know what else you want me to say."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Um, try to be better?"

"I do!" He exclaimed. "God, just because you can't see physical effort doesn't mean that I'm not trying. But my mind wanders. I forget things; I start thinking up new avenues of research and studies..."

"Rick, this isn't easy for me!" She shouted back. "Can you just see that? Can you _try_?"

"I just said that I do try," he said, stepping back from her and she felt a bitter stab of satisfaction.

"It's not enough," she said. "It's not enough when there are no results, Rick."

"What, have you turned into a cross fit instructor?" Rick said, sarcasm weighing down his voice. "Or a therapist? To get more, you have to do more?"

"Exactly!" Melinda said, stabbing her finger into his chest and his eyes flew to it. "Exactly! You have to _do_ more and not just _think_ about it. Why is this so hard for you to grasp?" She stabbed her finger into his chest again and his eyes now flew to her face.

"I don't know how to try harder than I already am!" He said, but it was obvious that his mind was no longer on their fight. "What, do—do I have to post sticky notes to every surface in the house? Do I have to take lessons on how to pay attention? My mind doesn't work that way."

"Rick, it hurts," she said. "Do you know how much it hurts when you don't remember anything? And I'm not talking about Valentine's day and birthdays, cause who gives a fuck about them. But anniversaries. Or dates. How can you forget a date made the week before? Just how does that happen, Rick?" She stabbed her finger into his chest again and was completely surprised when he snapped.

"Would you stop doing that," he exclaimed. "God, Melinda. Sometimes I just want to—"

"Shut up!" She said. "Shut up and—"

"So only you get to talk?"

"Shut up so I can kiss you," she muttered and leaned in, taking his lips in hers and showing him no mercy.

His groan was loud and guttural, a sound straight from his heart. His hands went straight to the buttons on her shirt and this time, she didn't stop him. The fabric floated to the floor behind her and he was groping for her bra strap, edging her to his office door and slamming it the rest of the way shut.

 _Good,_ she thought when she heard the unmistakable sound of him locking the door. _No interruptions. No distractions. What the hell am I thinking? Why does it always like this when I'm with Rick? Why can't I have a sane thought...oh, god._

Her brain short circuited when she felt his lips on her body. She grabbed his hair and yanked his head up momentarily.

"This better be worth it," she whispered. "This better be worth you."

His eyes met hers and she saw the agony in them before it was replaced buy simple lust.

As usual.

* * *

Later, she lay panting over him before finally untangling herself. "This is why you use protection," she said. "So that men who only want to be friends with benefits don't knock you up."

"I don't want to just be that," he protested. "Melinda. It must seem that way but I need you to be more than that. I need you, Melinda. To live."

"You're broken," she said. "You're this broken record. We kiss and make up and then we fight again and now my life has become a song."

"Yes, but how good does that make-up sex feel?" He asked, moving behind her and wrapping his arms around her again.

"This wasn't make-up sex," she growled and moved away from him.

"See any ghosts on your way over?" He asked, leaning forward to nip her neck.

She couldn't help but lean into the caress, even knowing that she'd have a mark there in the morning. "I did, actually. A future teller."

"Who?" He asked, sucking ever harder on her neck.

"Your wife. Ex-wife."

Just like that, the magic was gone. He pulled away from her and she could feel his eyes on her back. "Kate?"

"Do you have another one?" She asked, reaching for her shirt and yanking it on. "I don't want to play this role, Rick. I don't want to be another Kate but that's what you're making me. It's impossible to get you to really talk, really think about where our relationship is headed."

"I've said before that I can't marry again," Rick said. "There is too much pain down that path."

"I'm respecting that," she said. "I'm a modern woman. Whatever. But Rick..." She reached out to caress his cheek and he placed his hand over hers.

"I love this, I really do," he said. "Being together. Not being alone. You know that when I met you, I immediately wanted you? Not just in my bed, but in my life. Forever."

"Like we ever made it to the bed," Melinda teased. "Why can't it always be like this? Why is it so hard with you, Rick?"

"I don't know, maybe it doesn't have to be," he countered. "Just accept me as I am."

"And deny you the chance to become a better version of yourself?" She asked. "Oh Rick."

"Don't oh Rick me, I just might catch you again," he said.

She exhaled and put his hands on her pregnant stomach.

"We're having a baby," she said, her voice stone sober. "Can I trust you to be a father?"

"Well, that's an entirely different can of worms," he said. "I mean..I won't play catch with them in the backyard but I'll teach them everything there is to know about the paranormal. If they have your gift too, just think of how much help it would be to them if we could both teach them about their gift. How amazing would that be? I can't wait until they're here. I can't wait to tell them how we met, and give them horror stories about how much you used to hate me."

"Still do," she corrected.

"Does that mean I'm not scared?" He asked, his voice softening. "I'm terrified. It frightens me beyond mortal comprehension. But I'll be behind you every step of the way. It'll be good, Melinda."

"I want a boy," she said suddenly. "I want someone like you but with all the bad parts removed."

He laughed, burying his face in her back. "I want a girl. With your sense of humor and your temper and your ability. I want to teach her."

"I want either," she said. "I want to love them and never make any of the mistakes my mother did. I'll make new ones, I'm sure, but I won't leave her alone like my mother did me. I'm going to be so involved in her life. I'm going to be everything to her and show her everything and tell her anything she ever wants to know."

"I want it so much," he said. "I want you, forever. I wish you could promise to never leave me."

"I wish I could too," she said and it was like the temperature in the room dropped several degrees.

"I guess I deserved that," Rick said, and stood up, grabbing his clothes and pulling them on at a rapid pace as if he suddenly couldn't stand to be in the same room as her.

She swallowed nervously, looking up at him and wanting to ask a question, wanting to hear something from him that she'd never heard before. She wanted proof. She wanted him to show that he really wanted her in his live forever.

"Say you love me," she said.

There was a long silence. It was too long. Melinda felt her heart beating in her ears as she waited for his response. She couldn't believe she was putting herself on the line for him. She couldn't believe that she was letting another man have this much control over her after she'd sworn that Kevin was the last one, the last person to break her heart like that because she wouldn't ever give someone her heart that fully again.

But here she was, begging this man for scraps of attention, of love. All of the things she'd sworn to stop doing after her father and Kevin.

"I can't," he said, his voice raw. "Not yet. Not ever..."

She left his office in silence, leaving him and slamming the door, before rounding the corner and sinking down to the floor to bury her face in her hands. Sobs racked her body and it took her a long moment to get control of herself.

But when she did, she walked straight to her car, never looking back.

* * *

A/N: In the first episode that Melinda's ex is mentioned, his name is Kevin. But in the second season his name has been changed to Kyle. I left it as Kevin.


	3. Chapter 3

Knowing Better vs. Doing Better

* * *

The thing was, Rick knew better. He knew better than to invite that student into his office for something that was , as Melinda had insisted, more than a casual conversation.

That girl had been inviting him to have her. For a better grade, for a better life, for an easier time...a free pass, he'd heard it called. Getting a professor to sleep with you was a free pass.

For anyone but the professor, of course.

Rick watched Melinda leave, almost able to open his mouth and ask her to wait. Stop.

But, like with Kate, he didn't.

* * *

The Limbic System

* * *

Once home, once the school day had finally ended, Rick was in the kitchen, going through the motions of making dinner.

He tried to concentrate on the food in front of him, on how dinner was promising to be pretty damn fabulous.

He tried to concentrate with his senses and by doing so, turn off his brain. He tried to remember and calculate the times table of twelve. 12, 24, 36, 48, 60, 72, 84, 96, 108, and on and on and on.

His concentration faltered. Twelve was too big a number to keep track of.

He still saw Melinda.

* * *

The Five Senses: Touch

* * *

Sight.

Smell.

Taste.

Touch.

Hearing.

Rick's hand slid over the beef, feeling it beneath him. In his mind, he went where he shouldn't, to Melinda.

In his mind, he touched her. He felt the incredible softness of her skin. He glided his hands over her inner thighs. His lips he placed to her stomach, where his child... their child...was currently growing.

He moved his hand over, sliding it over her breast. He felt every valley and contour, memorized from the few times he'd been able to see them so that he could memorize them...in preparation.

* * *

The Five Senses: Smell

* * *

Rick inhaled the rich aroma of the beef deeply before beginning to add the spices.

White pepper, which ghosted up his nose.

Fresh mint, which would give it a fresh smell.

Himalayan pink salt.

"Why pink?" She'd asked. "Who has pink salt?"

" Obviously people with more discerning taste buds," he'd returned.

Smell had a great power over how easily people remembered things. As Rick again inhaled, he remembered, he knew why he had made this dish, tonight of all nights. He'd made it for Melinda, on their first sleep over date.

He almost laughed from the pain.

* * *

The Five Senses: Hearing

* * *

He reached for the radio, twisting the knob to turn it on. He didn't care what was station it was on; he just needed to hear something besides his own freaking thoughts.

It was playing 'When You Say Nothing At All' by Allison Krauss. Melinda's favorite song.

He was swept into the moment, thinking of how Melinda lit up when this song was on the radio, how she'd put it on CD just for him to listen to.

"This song...is me," she'd said once. "It describes me...and you...perfectly. This is how we work."

* * *

The Five Senses: Sight

* * *

His eyes glazed over as he stared at the food in front of him, the sizzling beef and simmering vegetables.

He could almost see Melinda, if he squinted. She was standing in front of him, she was messing with the pots, lifting the lids just because it bothered him.

He saw things differently now. Now he saw how hard she was trying to make him react, to make him pay attention to what she was actually doing and not just what he saw her doing.

Not just her fluid motions. What she was doing with them. He needed to see.

* * *

The Five Senses: Taste

* * *

He ate the food but he could barely taste it. He moved each bite to his mouth and all he could remember was how Melinda ate cake. She'd put one forkful into her mouth and just let it sit there for a moment while she tasted it, cherishing all the flavors.

Her fork would come out licked clean.

She never shared her cake or dessert. If he wanted some of her entree, fine.

But when it came to chocolate or strawberries, she'd pull it out of his reach.

"Mine," she'd say. "You can't have a taste."

* * *

The Other Three Senses: Vestibular (relating to balance, how we adjust to gravity)

* * *

He felt like he'd lost his sense of gravity without her. He misjudged distances and he felt dizzy at random points while making dinner. He slogged through chores he usually flew through.

He couldn't look at things and see their worth anymore. He couldn't instantly look at an essay and tell if it would help him or hinder him. He couldn't see it's weight.

He floated in space, and didn't know how to get back to earth.

Gravity. He needed gravity to live. He needed Melinda.

She was his gravity. And she was gone

* * *

The Other Three Senses: Proprioception (the muscles and joints and sensations of body parts in relation to each other, the body knowing where all of its parts are and how to move accordingly)

* * *

He'd lost something. He'd lost his heart and he wasn't even sure, at this point, where he'd lost it. Was it with Kate? Or Melinda?

All he knew was that she'd stormed into his life and know he didn't know what to do anymore. He didn't know where his heart was. He didn't know what his heart wanted. So he didn't know what his heart was saying as it looked at her. He didn't know where it wanted to go: after her.

Always after her. See Melinda; move accordingly forward.

* * *

The Other Three Senses: Interoception (what tells us when we are full; hungry; have to go to the bathroom)

* * *

He dropped his fork on the table, wanting to throw the rest of his food away, not hungry at all even though his stomach growled for food.

He couldn't eat it. He couldn't taste it and chewing had suddenly become a chore.

Rick Payne was one of the types of people who lived to eat; not who ate to live. He cherished being hungry and the sensory journey he always took to get full, through spicy Indian dishes and greasy beef and soft vegetables; potatoes that melted in his mouth.

That even being hungry was robbed from him..


	4. Chapter 4

Rick remembered the first time he'd met Melinda and his heart ached.

She had walked into his class, extremely late.

He'd thought she was a student and had felt rather angry at her lack of punctuality, even though God knew it wasn't one of Rick's strong points either...

Rick looked up to see the door open and a short student walk in. Her brown hair cascaded down her back and her pinup girl worthy figure was clathed in a tight sweater and jeans.

He thought he knew her the instant she walked in. A popular girl, who took classes like this to sleep through, counting on their good looks and daddy's money to keep them from ever getting in trouble.

He continued talking, walking around the room as he did so. She wasn't sitting down and that bothered him too. What the hell was she doing here, then?

He wanted to say something but he'd worked hard to build up the reputation of clueless professor so he forced himself to ignore her, even though it was hard.

Why did the sweater have to be tight? Why did it have to strain and pull every time she inhaled? Why did women like that have to know all too well the power they held over men when they dressed like that?

He finished the lecture. He'd never known an hour to go by so slowly. He was considering asking her to stay behind but changed his mind. There was no reason to let her know what power she held over him by her inappropriate behavior.

He stayed by the window, looking out of it until the classroom had cleared. He felt a headache coming on and wanted the day to end.

He heard a throat clear behind him and slowly turned around, not knowing what he'd find standing there... Or who.

And it was her.

"Can I help you, Miss...?"

"Gordon," she offered. "Melinda Gordon."

He didn't remember her name. "Did you register late?"

"Pardon?"

"Is the reason for your tardiness that you only registered today?" He asked impatiently, moving to his desk.

She stared at him for a moment, her lips parting.

What, was she so used to having it easy that she couldn't even process that he was reprimanding her?

"Yes," she finally stammered. "I did. Sorry."

He sighed. "My class is all off since they started to allow same day registration. I suppose I'll get the paperwork later."

She still stood there, unmoving.

He sighed, avoiding looking at her. "Do you need something?"

"I was wondering if you could clarify something you talked about in your lecture," age said. "You spent the whole thing, or what I managed to see, debunking ghosts. Flickering lights became electrical problems and knocking becomes bad piping."

"Yes," he said, afraid of where she was going with this.

"What makes you so convinced?" She said. "In a house with perfect wiring, how do you put down things like that to normal happenings?"

God was punishing him. He'd sent Rick a true believer to punish him.

"There's no proof that the paranormal exists," he said with false patience. "And I am, if anything, a scientific man."

"So you won't believe unless you have proof," she stated flatly. "Yet if someone were to bring you proof, you'd do your damnedest to disprove it."

"Yes, to prove that it's real beyond a reasonable doubt," he said.

"But there will always be a reasonable doubt with things like the paranormal," she said. "To believe in proof you need faith. But you can't have faith if you need proof to believe."

"Stop going all Santa Claus on me," he said. "You're right. I don't believe! It's a load of crap, honestly. I teach peoples' need to believe in the supernatural. That's all."

"It's not all," she said. "You teach doubt and the importance of mocking things that can't be proven."

"Then drop my class," he snapped. "It's as simple as that!"

"But you're still teaching it!" She protested. "It won't stop the students from believing you when you say there is no such thing as the supernatural, nothing that can't be debunked and thoroughly disproven. It is guys like you that should simplify my job but all you ever do is make it harder."

"Your job?" He asked, his voice rising with disbelief. "What the hell do you do, may I ask, that me teaching a class makes it harder?"

"I have to make people believe," she said, voice tense. "After years of people like you telling them not to, I have to make them believe again."

Rick felt something go snap in his brain. He didn't particularly like being 'people like you' and he was rundown after spending the whole argument avoiding looking at Melinda's chest.

His classroom door was wide open. He walked to it.

"Please go now," he asked, keeping himself under control. "If you don't, I will call security. I also suggest that you drop this class or I might have to do it for you."

"Excuse me?"

"Daddy's money is no good here," he said coldly.

She stared at him, her lips parting in shock. "You've got me all wrong," she protested.

"Be that as it may..." He said, waving his hand to the door.

She stepped forward. "I'm not a student here."

He let the information process.

"I just came to ask you a few questions and misjudged your lecture times," she continued.

"And so...?"

"Belief is possible," she said.

He stared at her now, not sure of what he saw.

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked, meaning his voice to sound bored but instead it sounded raw. Raw and aching, like she'd just pushed a very emotional button of his.

"Because you want to believe," she said simply. She was so near him now he could reach out and touch her. After a moment of staring into her eyes, that was just what he did.

He picked up her hand, bringing it up to his face. Not sure of what he was doing, he pressed a kiss to her inner wrist.

He heard the hiss of air as she exhaled in surprise...and desire.

He met her eyes and she held his gaze.

In a daze, he closed his office door.

She watched, pulling her hand back and crossing her arms over her chest.

At the last second, he didn't close it all the way.

"I'm not forcing this," he said and his voice was remarkably calm considering what he was considering and imagining doing. "You can still go."

She stepped forward and his foolish, irrational heart leapt in disappointment.

The she placed her hand over his on the knob and pushed the door the rest of the way closed.

She was also the one to lock it.

Really. Considering how they met, why was Rick surprised that this was how it had turned out?

Every teacher was entitled to one insane affair. So Melinda was his. That didn't surprise him.

* * *

Whenever Melinda remembered how she had first met Rick, her cheeks turned bright scarlet and, no matter what the temperature was currently, it was instantly too warm no matter where she was.

Even now, what they had talked about beforehand escaped her. She had been taking issue with how he taught his classes.

The conversation wasn't the part she remembered. What she remembered was the look of shock on Rick's face when she locked the door.

What she remembered was the feeling coursing through her veins as she moved into his arms, pushed him against his desk and kissed him.

His lips had burned her, wherever they touched. Her lips stung from kissing him and she felt like he left fire in his wake as he kissed his way down her neck and onto her breasts and lower still.

What she remembered was the noises she made that would have been embarrassing if Rick hadn't been making them too.

What she remembered was that neither of them had had a condom. What she remembered was that she didn't use hormonal birth control because it messed her up.

What she remembered was going back to his office almost every day for a week after that. She remembered the hours spent making out like stupid teenagers until their lips were numb and their bodies sore.

What she remembered was taking a pregnancy test five weeks after meeting him.

What she remembered was that it was positive.


End file.
